Glimmer of Hope
by mTruely
Summary: Percy. 'nuff said. No slash.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first fanfic, so bear with me guys. I'm rough around the edges. This was the first time I've actually sat down and wrote anything creative in...four years? These two chapter took me less than two hours to type, so they may be a bit rough. There are some original characters in this, and more to come hopefully. Enjoy!**

Chapter One

He could hear the whooshing of blood in his ears. His pulse was racing as he found his surroundings in the sea of black around him. His arms felt like propellers as he flailed his way out of the murky swamp water and onto the mud ridden shore. Stalks of cattails smacked his face as he slowly but steadily crawled his way out of the water and plopped himself into the mud, soaking his already blood and water drenched uniform.

The cotton of the black uniform coat weighed down his weakened 120 pounds down, sinking him further into the mud, to the point where his hands were nowhere to be found and the mud sloshed itself up into his sleeve to his elbows. He collapsed into the mud, weary with exhaustion from his adrenaline fueled attempt at saving himself from a murky, shallow grave.

His breathing steadied as he relaxed into the mud bed beneath him, until suddenly the adrenaline that was once coursing through his bed, allowing him to pull himself out of the water, depleted; allowing another sensation to overload his senses. Excruciating pain radiated through his body from every nerve fiber all the way through his pores. The arms that once propelled his body from the water was suddenly throbbing with intense pain that caused his entire upper body contort into the fetal position until his ribs began to beat with an even larger sledge hammer of pain that caused him to flail, arching his back, back and thrusting his legs out from underneath him.

Gasping for air, he panicked as he lay on the bank. His eyes that had been clenched shut, had sprung open only to be overwhelmed with the early morning sunrise. Overwhelmed with the bright orange, red, and purple rays of light, he curled his body away from the light and back towards the water. Despite the pain he was able to raise his arm as he grasped the cattails to cling to the bank, where he saw his battered knuckles, swollen hues of black and purple. Further down he could see his unbuckled pants and his missing shoes, probably lost in the swamp water to be gnawed on by gators or rambunctious coonhounds.

It was morning. He suddenly realized that he couldn't remember how he had gotten there. However, he could remember leaving his shift for the evening, at the Cold Mountain Penitentiary. That had been at 5 P.M. It had to be around 6 A.M. now, he gathered. There were twelve hours he could not recollect. Twelve hours where he couldn't remember what had happened to him, and who had dumped him for gator bait the night before. There were twelve hours that Abby, his collie mutt, had been locked into his shabby apartment above McGregor's Diner, unless old lady McGregor had come to her rescue.

At the thought of Abby's overnight plight, his head rapidly turned toward the sound of baying hounds toward the horizon. Abruptly turning his head had caused a muscle spasm at the base of his neck, causing yet another influx of pain to add to his turmoil. Even through the pain and the tears streaming from his eyes, he could see it.

The morning sun, barely peeking through the trees, had caused it to glint in the sunlight. There it was, his salvation. Nestled underneath of bush just off the bank, was a coon trap. With this glimmer of hope, he blacked out in exhaustion as the bellowing of hounds became louder and louder. Somebody would find him. Somebody would save him from this hell hole.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

The balding, grey haired man stood outside his patient's room, staring into the pane glass window. He was a tall, willowy man in his early 60's. His sun tanned face, scattered with the onset of age spots from the sun's damage, had become wrinkled from the constant worry and pressure placed upon his broad shoulders. He rubbed his greyed beard in an overwhelming amount of anguish.

How could this happen? How could such a sadistic and macabre act happen in this town; this town was sleepy and quaint. It was the type of town that you wanted to stay in forever, even past high school graduation and raise your kids in. Sure, lynchings were known to happen, but they were far and few between, even in such a conservatively Baptist community where at times tension boiled in the summer heat. But this was a completely different act of pure evil, this was the brutal attack and victimization of a young, white man who worked at the prison.

* * *

Dr. Warren Martin was genuinely shocked as the nurses had peeled the heavily soaked and sodden prison uniform from the young man's body. The uniform pieces made heavy PLOPS on the linoleum floor in the emergency room. He couldn't help but stand and watch the blood seep through the heavy, mud soiled cotton and slowly stream across the floor into the drain underneath the gurney.

He turned away from the bloody uniform and back toward his patient who was thankfully passed out. Was the conscious for the entire ordeal? If God was as merciful as Pastor Larden claimed he was, the boy would have been knocked out from a single blow to the head and made completely unaware of the acts committed against him.

However, once the uniform was cleared from the boy's body, it was clear to Warren that he had been wrong, and God was instead merciless. He could clearly make out extensive defensive wounds on his hands and arms. The boy's hands had been beaten black and deep shades of purple from defending himself from his attackers. (He silently hoped to himself that this was a solo attack, and not the work of multiple men. Again, he found himself praying for the sake of the community that this wasn't the result of local men, men he had more than likely birthed himself and doctored into adulthood. It couldn't be.)

The boy's face was swollen as well, however it had shades of red and pink around his eyes and cheekbones, which had been sunken in slightly. His eyes were shaded with under eye circles, marking the lack of the sleep the boy had endured before the attack, but he noticed the cut above his right eyebrow that had begun to fester with infection from the swamp water and mud, the initial wound. Even lower he could see the split in his lower lip that extended past his mouth, and the peeling of his lips from biting down on them, causing bloody indents and sores.

Inside the examination room, the nurses had become hushed, no longer buzzing about their new patient and the stench of the murky swamp. Instead, Warren turned to see their eyes watering while they shook their heads with grave sympathy, as they dabbed the boy with wet sponges in an attempt to cleanse his body of the never ending mud and blood. Warren turned back to examine his patient, noting his dark brown hair that was matted against his head with blood from being impaled, and the darkened bruises around his thin neck, now pulsing with blood.

Lower still, Warren noted the dislocated left shoulder, the fracture in his right arm, the ligature marks and rope burn around his wrists from being tied behind, and the broken ribs in his upper abdomen; more than likely causing internal bleeding. Downward, he continued to note the scraps and abrasions on his upper thighs and the gashes on his knees.

"Where are his shoes?" He found himself asking, barely making an audible sound as his deep voice cracked slightly with emotion. He cleared his voice as he glanced at his nurses whom each pointed their attention to the boy's feet, that each wore soiled and tattered black socks. Where they even black? He wondered. Through the tears of fabric he would see the bloody, broken big toes of each foot, and he leaned forward to peel them from the body. The balls of the boy's feet and toes had been scraped raw. He had answered his own question; which the nurses had felt best not to reply to. The boy had ran shoeless from his captures, possibly tripping and gashing his knees open in the process. He had ran for his life.

* * *

Warren stared through the windows still, mystified. He couldn't hear the buzz of the early morning shift beginning to hum down the hall. Word had gotten out of the battered boy as the nurses made their rounds and other physicians were notified of the high risk patient, who was in need of intense tender, love, and care. He would need it, Warren thought to himself. Anybody who had endured even half of what this boy had, would need a large amount of tender, love, and care, but he couldn't imagine the amount this boy would need, and how he would accept it; if at all.

Behind him, Warren could feel the presence of another person behind him. He turned around to see a small, mousey haired woman behind him, one of the nurses who had just come back from maternity leave. Stanton, was her name. Margaret? Mary? It didn't matter. He solemnly nodded to the distraught looking nurse, who had tears welling up in her small hazel eyes. She shook away the tears and opened her mouth slightly, trying to find the courage to speak in such a tragic moment. Warren watched her as her eyes glanced up to the ceiling and she lowered her head back down as sighed before she spoke.

"I know who the boy is." She managed to squeak out, the loudest she could muster through the sobs she was fighting to keep back; in front of the doctor who looked like he had aged fifteen years in just hours.

"He works with my husband, I recognized the uniform and his face." It was true. The boy had come to her house just weeks before after her husband, Dean, had been brutally attacked by a new inmate. The boy had come on his own accord, pale with fright at the time, and terrified with how to handle the situation on the mile. He had come to apologize for freezing, an apology that Dean had felt was the most sincere emotion he had seen the boy emit since he had been hired.

"Percy. Percy Wetmore." Mrs. Stanton; the doctor had been right, her name was in fact Mary, continued on as she rung the ends of the white apron above white nurses' uniform.

"I called my husband, and Percy Wetmore hasn't shown up for work, not a single call either." She glanced back up towards the doctor and tears freely fell from her face as she buried her face in her hands and quietly let out the weep she had been so strongly holding in.


	3. Chapter 3

**I would like to thank everybody who read the last few chapters. It has definitely kept me WANTING to write more, and I apologize for not doing so at a quicker rate. I actually felt like I had hit a brick wall when I found myself taking the fic towards a completely different tangent, which I will write at a later time, but after the holiday weekend and some time to relax, I finally had the peace and quiet to get BACK on the topic of this fic and in the direction I want to go. I am excited to continue onward, and please bear with me.**

 **I am NOT good at dialogue, its my worst ability when it comes to writing.**

 **Anyways, thanks for reading and reviewing. I'm excited to actually write again, which is RARE. It had been 4/5 years since I had actually sat down and made myself write, and thankfully fanfiction has given me the self-esteem boost to actually do so. If only it would make me want to exercise. XD**

 **Thanks again!**

 **(Julia)**

Chapter Three

Warren lounged in his desk chair contemplating his next move, overwhelmed with grief. His arthritic hands rubbed his eyes, scratching away at the sleep that had settled after he had lied down for his afternoon nap; something that he had dearly needed after the morning he had, had.

Percy Wetmore. He had never met the boy before, but he knew who to contact in the situation, fortunately thanks to Mary Stanton who had left the home phone number to the boy's supervisor on E Block; Paul Edgecomb. In this moment, Warren was indebted to Mrs. Stanton, as he wasn't sure if he would have been able to remember the number himself; having been a longtime friend of Paul. Warren grabbed a pencil from his desk top and used the eraser to dial the number that Mrs. Stanton had managed to quickly scrawl down on a, thankfully, clean tissue from her purse while she tried to hold back the tears that were causing her mascara to stream down her cheeks. The sound of the rotary clicking back to zero each time gave him a slight jolt. It had been years since he had been this emotionally overwhelmed by a patient and he prayed silently to himself as the call was connected that he would never have to feel the anguish he had right now.

"Edgecomb residence, Janice speaking." Chimed the cheerful and bright voice of Janice Edgecomb, Paul's wife of over twenty years. In fact, Warren had been Paul's best man and if he could remember correctly, he had given a rather embarrassing and drunken best man's speech, relishing the times they had, had prior to him leaving for medical school; before Jan of course.

"Jan, I'm sorry for calling this early, it's Warren. Is Paul available or is he at work?" Warren managed to croak out the last sentence before his throat locked up. He coughed quickly before Jan could respond.

"He actually just got home Warren; he had to stay late at the Mile last night and work an extra shift. The new boy didn't show up to work, and didn't have the decency to call. Kids these days…" Jan's voice trailed on. Warren could hear rustling in the background, and he could hear Paul's hand grasp the phone receiver.

In the background, he could hear Jan's voice, "It's Warren, Paul."

"Just what I need, another emergency." Paul's deep voice resonated through the receiver, and Warren could feel his stomach drop. At that moment, he felt no more than an inch tall, no bigger than a tiny plastic soldier figurine that his grandson loved to play with.

"Warren, I sure hope this is good news." Paul's voice had a hint of hopefulness in it, craning for a positive phone call to end his long night. Warren's hand wiped the sweat from his brow, and quickly swiped his glasses down from the bridge of his nose.

"I found your guard, and I know why he didn't call last night." Warren leaned back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling.

"Let me guess, got in a fight too big for him to handle without the Governor to have his back?" Warren could hear Paul snicker into the phone.

"Paul." His voice was monotone and dead serious. "You need to come to the hospital please. Now would be better than later. Warren could hear Paul sigh deeply before he hung up the phone with a loud clang. It wasn't even 9 A.M. and his day was far from over.


	4. Chapter 4

**This is definitely the chapter I could use some work on. I am horrible when it comes to dialouge and character interaction. I will openly admit that I rushed through this chapter, as I just want it over with.**

 **I'll just duck in shame right now and cower in the corner now. lol**

 **-mTruely (Julia)**

Chapter Four

Jan stood beside her husband, leaning against the counter with her arms crossed in front of her. Her brow had furrowed into worry as she watched her husband hang up the phone slowly as he stood there in silence.

"It's bad isn't it?" She asked quietly, tilting her head forward in a nod as she spoke. Not often could Paul, her strong, broad, brick house of a husband be silenced, but Warren Martin had done it. Jan waited as the words slowly dropped into his ears and resonated as speech. Paul turned his head towards her, with his fingertips to his lips as he thought.

"He wants me to come down to the hospital Jan. It's about Percy Wetmore, the new hell child on the Mile." Jan knew all too much of the boy from overhearing her husband and the other men bicker about the boy's apparent haughty personality that was wreaking havoc on the block and the prisoners.

"I'll drive." Jan grabbed the keys to the 1928 Model A Ford off the counter, that Paul had bought himself for their 20 year anniversary gift. She wrapped a sheer scarf around her head and headed out onto the porch, waiting for her husband to follow. Paul followed with his head down in exhaustion.

The Edgecomb's were side by side as they walked silently down the hospital corridor. Jan's heels clicked loudly on the tile floor as they came to a stop outside Warren's office. Inside they could see their friend crouched over his desk, it was evident that he had not moved since he had hung up the phone. A cigarette bud smoked between his fingers, as the ash slowly drooped over and finally fell apart onto the desk. Warren quickly wiped the ashes from his desk before glancing up to the door, seeing his longtime friends. His face didn't show any emotion other than exhaustion as he pulled his body up from his desk and towards the door.

"He's over there." The doctor pointed over to a room with the blinds drawn.

"He was brought in this morning, still in his uniform. He must have been getting ready to head into his shift last night," He nodded to Paul in acknowledgment to his double shift the night before and continued. "He has multiple abrasions, a dislocated shoulder, multiple broken ribs, ligature marks to his wrists from being tied behind, and hukmph" Warren coughed slightly and lowered his eyes before glancing at Jan. "He was raped."

The threesome stood in silence while the Edgecombs overcame their shock before the doctor spoke again, unable to stand the silence any longer.

"Mrs. Stanton gave me the boy's information after we got him stabilized and sewn back up. That's why I called you and not the cops. At this point, I'm not sure what more the cops could do that we couldn't ourselves." Warren swung the door open and let it hit the wall with a thud.

"Paul, you know the boy more than anybody else in town. You're his supervisor, I need you to take over and see to it that the boy is taken care of. I've already made my calls to find some sort of next of kin, and I can't find any. I can tell you this much, he's no governor's nephew." Warren glanced over to his friend with his eyebrow arched. The boy had managed to lie his way into a job, and had single handedly disassociated himself from his family; if he had any.

"You want us to what?!" Paul sputtered out. Jan stood beside him with a bemused grin on her face.

"Paul, you have an empty bedroom just sitting there collecting dust and Jan was a great caretaker to your kids. I need somebody to rehabilitate this kid, because Lord knows he'll need it. Consider it a favor."

His friend stood silently while he fumed, his face turning red and his jaw set.

"We'll do it." Jan piped up from behind her husband and pushed between the doctor as she entered the room. Her eyes grazed over the boy's body as she sat down in the chair at the head of the bed. She raised her arm and grasped the boy's hand with her own.

"Paul, let the past be. This boy needs our help and I fully intend to do so. If you don't approve, then you can go home and pick me up when I'm ready." Jan's voice was firm as she spoke, her eyes not moving from the boy's body. She could hear her husband's exasperated sigh from behind her, and she smiled. It didn't take much to win her husband's approval. Behind her, Paul followed her steps and slumped into the chair beside her and closed his eyes.

"He should wake up in a few hours. I'll have the nurses page me when he does." Jan could swear in that moment the doctor's eyes lit up as he left the room and let the door click shut behind him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry for the lack of updating guys. I started this chapter MONTHS ago and have just now remembered I had it. I added a bit to it, and I hope to have some more to follow soon!**

 **Thanks for the reads and reviews! I would love to hear what you all think and want to see!**

 **mTruley (Julia)**

Chapter Five

Pain flowed in and out of his body as he lay in the hospital bed in what felt like a comatose. He was unable to move his body, his limbs, or even his head to yell out to anybody nearby; assuming anybody was there. In fact, there was nothing around him except for darkness, complete and total blackness like somebody who had shoved the black hood from the Mile over his head and stripped him of any human ability to feel. That was it. He was numb. Everything around him was numb and obsolete except for the dull pain that coursed through every blood vessel and nerve in his body. If this is what being alive felt like, then he didn't want any part of it. Percy Wetmore wanted nothing more than to be dead.

Death didn't come. Or at least he was taking his sweet time. Instead, his eyes burned. Bright light glared down onto him, beating its way into his eyelids and scorching his already fried brain. He tried to clench his eyes shut and avoid the bright glares from the florescent lighting of the hospital room. The swamp sunrise has been a lot more forgiving, he found him fondly remembering. That's right…he wasn't in the humid swamp anymore.

Instead, he could feel the cool breeze from the window beside him and underneath he could feel the soft plushness of the bedsheets below him that made his body feel like he was about to fall through the mattress to the floor. The swamp had felt comforting and natural. He had been able to feel his surrounding even when he had been worse for wear and tear than he had now. He had felt alive then but now he felt like no more than a fragile object that had to be kept on the high shelf out of reach and cherished so that it wouldn't shatter into a thousand little pieces all over the floor. He was nothing more than a "living" and breathing trophy that the winner could sit and polish any time he pleased whether he liked it or not.

At that thought, he clenched his hands. One hand dug into the fabric of the sheet and tugged it toward him and underneath his body; whereas his right hand grasped onto something warm. He could feel the tension as he squeezed again, which it reciprocated. He wasn't alone after all. Noise filled his ears as the hand warmly grasped his own and he could hear the quiet murmur of people, hopeful people who were awaiting his awakening.

However, he kept his eyes clenched tightly; trying to keep the light out and to continue taking in his surroundings. He could hear the click of the door open and the breeze swiftly flow out of the room as the swung open; engulfing the air. More whispers darting around the room and bouncing off the walls, and settling around him. As he clenched his grip on the sheets he could feel a tinge of pain from an IV as he rotated his wrist, testing the range of movement in his lower arm. Slowly his eyes open and the light washed over him; temporarily blinding him which caused him to blink rapidly to regain proper vision.

Staring up at the ceiling he turned his head towards the hand that had held his own warmly and saw the face of a woman he didn't recognize leaning towards the bed with a smiled that brightened the room tenfold. Percy could see the tears that streaked down her lightly rouged cheeks, and her soft blonde curls bounced on her shoulders and enveloped her in a bright yellow wreath. Beside the beautiful was somebody that made him blink twice, somebody that he never would have imagined seeing off the Mile and at his bedside; Paul Edgecombe.

Percy turned his head away from the couple and towards the doctor who had begun to examine him by checking his pulse rate and blood pressure. Grasping his right temple and motioning with his flashlight, the doctor waved the pen sized instrument in front of the Percy's face who's eyes had adjusted to the lighting in the room and followed the doctor's. The doctor nodded, satisfied, and spoke quietly to himself, "Good, good. Just what we need," as he pocketed the flashlight and swung his arms open towards the Edgecombes with a smile broadly displayed across his face. He turned again toward his patient with his hands clasped in front of his chest.

"Now that you're awake son, I would like to introduce myself. My name is Dr. Warren Martin and I was assigned your case early this morning when you were brought in from the swamps, unconscious." He tilted his head slightly to the right as he finished speaking until he continued on. "Now, I was informed this morning that you were supposed to be on the Mile for the overnight shift and you were found in your uniform. How did you end up unconscious on a swamp bed with questionable defensive wounds?" Warren waited patiently as the young man before him sat with his mouth a gap at the heinous accusation before him. Percy shook his head slightly and shut his eyes again as he wiped the sweat from his brow that had begun to drip.

"N-n-nothing happened." Percy stuttered.

"Nothing happened? Now son, you're in a safe place here with people who care about you an awful much. I could tell you what happened to yourself and I could call the authorities in here to get your statement where you may or may not be institutionalized for homosexuality against your will or you could tell me what happened. I have all day to wait until you decide." The doctor stood with his clipboard in front of his waist, his wrists crossed over the board. His eyes had locked onto the young man before him, and made sure to not blink away from the boy who stared up at him in a look of horror; his bruised and split mouth wide open; his upper lip curled into a slight snarl.

"Does any of this look consensual to you? Does this look like something that I would beg for? Maybe for it to stop." Percy's voice was harsh and came out like a sharp hiss, his words darting and stabbing at the doctor; full of anger and disgust. His eyes blue eyes could not hide the pain that he felt, and for a slight moment Jan could swear she saw the boy's mouth quiver, close to falling into a whimper and further into a sob, but before she could glance up from his mouth to the rest of his face, she could see him recover almost instantly and his entire body stiffen itself straight. Jan turned away from the boy and saw the doctor raise his hand, gesturing for the boy to calm down so that he could speak.

"I'm an old man son so you may have to repeat this back to me. Are you insinuating that you were raped last night?" The doctor's voice was apologetic, something that Jan saw right through. She knew that he was only trying to coax the boy out of his thick protective shell that was causing him to snap at him like an abused mongrel. The boy's face faltered when the word "raped" fell onto his ears, his eyes flickered away from the doctor and his eyebrows furrowed. His head dropped down against his chest and he stared at his hands, his thin fingers picking at his nails, doing anything that they could do to ignore the doctor's question.

Jan knew that this was the time that the boy needed her the most, as a mother figure. She reached her hand out to the boy and wrapped her fingers around the boy's left hand; being careful as she lifted it out from his lap as to not offend the boy. In her warm hand she cradled him and lightly gripped it, squeezing it slightly as she smiled at him as he lifted his head to look at the woman, his dark hair falling into his blue eyes.

"Nobody is going to hurt you dear, or judge you. We just want to help you through this, but the first thing you have to do is admit that you were…..raped." Jan's voice faltered on the word, not trying to speak to loudly and shock the boy and scare him away from her motherly grasp. This time the boy did not flinch at the words but stared boldly into her eyes, analyzing her closely. "We all want to help you Percy." Jan made a note to grab Paul's hand with her free hand in front of the boy and lovingly tilt her head towards her husband. She could see his eyes flicker towards his supervisor and back to her, his eyes not lingering long on Paul who had made a slight forced cough in an attempt to show his support for his once hated employee.

"Okay. Fine. It happened." Percy's voice cracked as he spoke and didn't look away from Jan, who watched the boy's adam's apple bob up and down as he nervously swallowed.

"Alright then. I'm sure that the good doctor is satisfied enough with that admission." Jan turned her head towards the doctor who stared smugly back at her and nodded her head.

"That was a good start Percy. And I hope you don't mind that Jan and Paul have agreed to take you in while you recover from your injuries; however long that might take." Warren made a note to send a stern look to Paul who shifted nervously in his chair, beside his wife who had turned her head back at Percy and nodded proudly at the young boy, her eyes glossy with emotion. Percy stared up at the doctor, his face covered again by the look of shock.

"No. No, I don't think that would be a good idea." The boy stammered as he spoke and shook his head as he spoke; his eyes wide.

"Nonsense Percy. You'll be coming home with us. It was Paul's idea all alone." Jan fibbed so that she could coax the boy carefully back to her. She watched his head turns back towards her and fall onto her husband's face, with a look of confusion on his face that was slightly skewed into a grimace. Jan nonchalantly jammed her heel into her husband's toe, urging him to acknowledge the boy. Paul grunted at the contact of her firm leather sole onto his tender big toe, and his large hands ran down the front of his white uniform shirt, smoothing it down against his chest nervously.

"She's right Percy. I would like you to stay with us." Paul's voice was uncertain and he awkwardly nodded his head towards the boy who grimaced slightly and turned back towards Jan who's hand still warmly grasped the boy's.

"My dog, Abby, she's in my room at Mrs. McGregor's. I'm sure she's frantic since I haven't been home yet to feed her or let her out. Will it be okay if I bring her too?" Percy's voice was urgent and emotional, Abby had been his closest friend for the longest time, and had been there for him when nobody else had. Wherever he went, Abby followed close behind. Percy saw Jan's eyes soften as she spoke of Abby and she tilted her forward towards him.

"That's fine dear, I'll have Paul pick her up tonight." Jan spoke warmly to the boy and turned her head back towards Warren, who still stood at the foot of the bed. "Warren, when can we take Percy home with us?" Jan smiled up at the doctor as she spoke.

"Well, I would say in the next few days. I would like to see him overnight at least." Warren nodded his head down at Percy and Jan who stared up at him intently.

"That's settled then." Jan clapped her hands together and smiled widely.


End file.
